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[ I, who have not been on lately, laughed at the squabble. Misunderstandings are quite common. I tend to just ignore them. ]


Rather dissinterested with the passerbys, Pozlaceny stopped in her step and decided to go back and make a right. She knew the streets, having lived here sixteen years of her life before she left to travel. She squeezed past a quarreling couple before slipping up an alley to a lonely bench on a side street. She ended up sitting there, placing the basket of her writing materials at her side. She took out paper and ink and looked around a bit. The houses looked taller than they did so many years ago and the streets were much more crowded than she remembered. She sighed. No one took the back streets as much any more. She was pretty much alone and decided to mindlessly sit there until something brilliant happened to cross her mind. She looked up, at the blue, unchanging sky. The birds were smart; they no longer flew around the main village in fear of being shot at, hunted, and the such. She let her head roll to the left, seeing no one, and sighed again. She crossed her legs and set to writing, anything really. They weren't sentences and they didn't make much sense put together but it was the least she could do as a writer. It surely didn't help that she wasn't paid much for work since no one took the time to read books nor make much sense out of them. No, this village and these people were constantly changing. Pozlaceny thought it'd be best to give up and just be a domestic house wife to that fool.
She grit her teeth. No, though just giving up seemed an appetizing idea, being married and having to live with that imbecile did no good. She'd rather drown in a sea of fire. Pzlaceny jotted the latter part of that thought down, thinking it quite clever of her to think and went on rambling.

Pozlaceny was in no right mind to make sense of what she saw on her paper. For one, the words no longer looked liked words but scribbles that tried to form coherence. From there came splotches next, as if she let her pen stay there for far too long. Then there were scratches of thoughts she thought did not even have the right to be jotted down. And then there came the shadows. Wait. Pozlaceny jumped, the anxious voice from behind her having caught her by suprise since, well, having been alone and having her mind wander for so long left her to be, well, forgetful that humans even existed. Her pen made a sharp and dark line across her page. Pozlaceny frowned and lifted her pen from the paper, giving a sort of fustrated sigh before turning her head to snap at whoever had startled her.

"At least you are polite," she murmured quickly and set her pen down, looking at the shy man behind her. She cleared her throat, obviously a tad irritated, and looked at him thoroughly. He looked foreign but had this...light appearance about him. She had not recognized him in the least; but Pozlaceny had only recently moved back to this town and so she didn't recognize a lot of people. She brushed back her hair, taking a deep breath.
Pozlaceny was...often in a bad mood and comes off a bit mean towards others. She fixed her tone and calmed a bit before she opened her mouth again.

"What do you want? If you want money because you're a begger, well, I'm sorry. These are hard times, how can a lady like me have extra money lying around? If you're a pervert, well, scram; there's some pretty, young ladies down in the market place who'd surely like to give you a good time with such a pretty face." She tilted her head slightly, speaking more calmly this time. "And if you are anyone else, well, how may I suit your fancy, stranger?" She leaned back in the bench, watching Zaco carefully. Creeps have been crawling the streets lately and Pozlaceny, as a girl, had to keep that in mind.


[ Funny how ironic this is. She's trying desperately for something to write and here comes this godly presence her way and she doesn't even know it. ]